Lu Huai didn’t spot any stray cats on his way home.
Truth was, during countless solo walks after school, he hadn’t seen cats like that in ages.
He’d seen plenty of strays—cats, dogs… some missing limbs. To him, they drifted aimlessly: loitering here, scavenging there, sometimes snatched for dog meat hotpot. All too common.
He’d instinctively avoid dark thoughts. But when a familiar stray vanished from his usual route, he’d faintly recall it.
Sympathy came naturally—though he knew it changed nothing.
He might pause, glance, and whisper, “Poor thing…”
Yet those strays likely never wondered if they were pitiful. Like humans, born into different lives, shaped by different worlds.
Some humans resign themselves; some strive upward; some drift carelessly.
Strays? They simply ate where food lay, slept where warmth lingered, defended themselves only when strangers neared.
Fortune or misfortune existed only in others’ eyes…
While humans simmered with quiet resentment.
Lu Huai sighed.
Tedious, tense school life had begun. Summer’s ease was truly gone.
Home, he booted his computer. Glanced at his neglected phone—*No messages*, he figured.
But the moment he logged into the chat app, a pop-up flashed:
“Hey~ I saw you’re only missing this version’s ring to graduate. Want me to get someone to run the dungeon for you?”
—From the server’s cutest female knight.
Lu Huai hesitated, fingers hovering. Deleted his draft.
A casual friend’s offer? He might accept. But her tone hinted at “seeking guidance.” Accepting meant owing a favor.
For most, no big deal.
Especially since she was a girl… girls often got leeway.
But… online romance → meeting IRL → happily ever after? He could dream. Never believe.
What if things deepened? Voice chat? She’d spot his social anxiety.
Even if he managed a few words… photos?
He’d tried selfies. *Not good*, he thought. Nowhere near those flawless, filtered shots flooding social media.
He’d just get dismissed.
Honestly, her question was probably innocent. But his mind spiraled—automatically, relentlessly—to the worst outcome.
No help for it. His imagination rarely held beauty. He knew it stemmed from insecurity… but what right did he have to feel confident?
A blink. The chat window pulsed.
“I saw ‘typing…’! You saw it too, right? Don’t play dumb!”
Tricky.
Lu Huai stayed silent.
“Hey? You there?!”
…
“Fine, kidding! I won’t help your ring anyway, hmpf. Running the dungeon myself—I’ll graduate first!”
“OK.”
Relief washed over him. Then—
“But… if you *sincerely* ask? Maybe. This version’s boss needs a pro team, y’know…”
…
Long silence.
“Gotta run! Bye!”
“OK.”
Behind the screen, a girl with glossy black hair scratched her head.
Reread the painfully short chat log.
Goosebumps prickled her arms.
*So… awkward.*
Awkward chats happened everywhere. The horror?
*She* was the awkward one.
*Wait… am I the clown?!*
“Why do I sound like a pathetic admirer simping over her idol?!” she internally wailed.
(He just chuckled—he’d watched a Bilibili meme video. That was all.)
By dinner, Lu Huai had almost forgotten. But as seven o’clock neared, his chest tightened.
*The door won’t ring. After tonight’s awkwardness…*
He forced his thoughts quiet.
He was afraid.
Afraid of growing used to things he wasn’t good at.
*She comes today… tomorrow… I get used to it… then she stops.*
Like an old friend vanishing without a word.
He’d had friends. Confided before.
Later, he’d heard the whispers: “Lu Huai? Nice guy… just… kinda annoying sometimes.”
He understood.
No one *wants* to carry your worries.
Cold truth.
Speak little? People offer kind words at first.
But lean on one person too long? They’ll tire. *Why so many problems? Why always you?*
You can grow used to sharing. Others won’t grow used to listening.
Best not to burden anyone.
*Ding-dong.*
Seven o’clock. The doorbell rang.
His calm shattered.
Yan Ningning stood there, freshly showered. Her clean, faint scent reached him without closeness.
A shadow lingering just outside his heart’s gate—hazy, beautiful, untouchable.
Denim shorts. White tee tucked in. Limbs fair and glowing. Hair loose, not in her school ponytail.
She smiled, apologetic. The mole on her neck stood out.
“Fell asleep after shower… tired. Sorry, hehe.”
*Same excuse as last night. Same timing…*
Lu Huai didn’t dwell. Rubbed his left arm—a quiet reminder: *Don’t overthink.*
“I was about to order takeout…”
Yan Ningning slipped inside, closed the door softly, then grinned mischievously.
“So you *were* waiting?”
“No.”
“Just call me next time! I’d wake up and come~”
Her smile brightened.
“I said no…”
“But you remembered, right?”
“Remembered what?” Lu Huai looked away, puzzled.
Yan Ningning clasped hands behind her back, breezed past him—leaving scent, silhouette, mystery.
“That we’d eat together these days~”
“How would I remember…”
His protest sounded helpless, hollow.
Not interesting at all.
They cooked. He handled small tasks. Ate. Chatted lightly.
Sometimes he spoke more; sometimes less.
Ambiguity lingered in the mist, rising and falling with his timid heart.
Days blurred into routine.
Parents still away. Yan Ningning’s parents worked late. Evening meals together became frequent.
Lu Huai warned himself: *Don’t take it for granted. Don’t depend.*
Yet it felt… ordinary.
Second week of school.
Lu Huai kept his quiet rhythm—until morning homeroom shattered it.
“Quick note,” Xu Zhixi said calmly from the podium. “Blackboard display contest this week. Affects class score. Volunteers?”
Silence. Thick, expected.
Lu Huai knew: at this age, few volunteered. Humility learned; confidence not. (He ranked top three in staying low.)
Even skilled students wouldn’t shout, “I’ll do it!”
*Surely the teacher knows I can*, they’d think.
None of his concern. Lu Huai stared at his textbook, gaze drifting.
“Since no volunteers,” Xu Zhixi continued, “I’ll assign two. Jiang Yao—layout.”
No surprise. Art-track student. Always handled layout.
Classmates nodded.
Content? Likely Lin Ruoxing, the top student…
“Lu Huai—you handle content.”
Scratch, scratch, scratch—
“Huh…?”
His pen stilled. A whisper, soft as doubt itself.
Outside, leaves rustled gently in the breeze, waving to the sun.
His shoulders tensed.
Swish, swish, swish—
So many… so many eyes… suddenly pinned on him.
